


Unprotected: Mycroft

by SisterOfWar



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Community: sherlockbbc_fic, Gen, Homelessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterOfWar/pseuds/SisterOfWar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 221B ficlet about the Holmes boys growing up homeless, and why Mycroft hates the violin.  For a prompt from SherlockBBC_Fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unprotected: Mycroft

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing this: [O Children](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/10038.html?thread=49844022#t49844022) it somehow just clicked why Mycroft was so willing to leave Baker Street when Sherlock started making horrid noises on his violin.  
> Fair warning: neither beta'ed nor Brit-picked.

In his quiet way, Mycroft had come to hate the violin. Not out of any misplaced sense of jealousy. But rather because of what it had come to represent in his younger years. It was true enough that the instrument (and, more importantly, Sherlock’s skill with it) had helped keep them alive as children. Busking may not have been entirely respectable, but Sherlock’s playing, combined with his obviously underfed physique, generally insured that there was enough money in the case at the end of the day to get them at least one meal. Too often, that was the only income they had for the day. It had filled Mycroft with a sense of guilt, that he could not properly provide for his younger brother.

He was obscurely grateful that Sherlock never actually played while he was around. It was always desultory plucking of the strings, or dragging the bow across to produce noises like a lovesick cat. It had become part of the strange language between them – even in his annoyance, Sherlock understood how far to push. And every time he abused the violin, bringing out such unmusical sounds, his actions reiterated _we are not those children anymore_. At which Mycroft would give a swing of his umbrella, telling Sherlock _but it is still my place to look after you, Brother_.


End file.
